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Susan Bristol loves her sessions with her enchanting shrink. For the first time in her life, she understands her dreams and desires are nothing to be ashamed of. Now if only she could get her boss to notice her...

Alex Davidson knows what he wants and isn't afraid to use a little hypnotism to get it. He's not only noticed the new graphic artist hired by his company, he’s decided she would make an excellent sale at the Davidson Auction House. Once she’s received training as a sex slave, of course.

Alex silently slid back the panel in the door that opened a tiny window into the cell beyond. Curled into a fetal ball, the remains of a
once-proud, independent woman lay sobbing after her most recent use. From here he could see the cum smears on her ass cheeks from where the
men had taken her tiny hole with their massive cocks – and he smiled.
Sliding the panel shut, he turned to the older woman beside him. “This one is nearly broken?”
“Very nearly, sir. She still sobs, which implies she still has resistance, despite the contract she signed. A few more sessions and she
will be ready for the next step of her training.”
“Excellent, Annabel. You have done well, as always.”
“Of course I have, sir. I was trained by the best.”
Alex heard the pride in the woman’s voice and had the good sense not to smile. Hand-picked from the offerings at the very first slave
auction his family ever held, the now-elderly woman had lost none of her own discipline and training. Since his father’s untimely death,
“Miss Annabel” had become simply “Annabel” to him, and an invaluable asset in keeping the family’s side business going.
“Let me see the next one.”
“This way, sir. Follow me.”
The woman’s thinness might lead one to think her a frail old lady, but Alex had to smile as she led the way down the brightly lit
cinder-block corridor to the next cell. Anyone fooled by her small size would have that illusion immediately dispelled by the crisp command
in a voice that brooked no disobedience.
A month before his thirtieth birthday, Alex Davidson had become full owner of his family business when his father died of a heart attack
while in Miss Annabel’s arms. It was a wonderful way to go and he hoped someday he might find a slave of his own who would be as dedicated
as the woman beside him was to his father.
He paused before the next cell, the thick door muffling but not silencing the strident voice coming from within.
“Get me the fuck out of here. You can’t keep me chained like this. I demand to see a lawyer. Who the fuck do you all think you are?”
Alex only raised an eyebrow at Annabel who shrugged. “A new acquisition. Just came in this morning.”
Alex nodded, opening the panel to a string of vituperation. “Fuck you! Open that fucking door and let me the fuck out of here. This
isn’t what I signed the fuck up for.”
“Does she know any other adjective?” Alex’s voice was deliberately calm and impersonal.
“Not that we’ve heard, sir.”
Alex chuckled at Annabel’s tone. Still, he had to ask. “And her paperwork is all in order?”
Annabel’s dry look was all the confirmation he needed. His father had always been adamant. No slave who wasn’t here willingly. Each
woman had to not only sign a contract, but also sign in front of witnesses of her own choosing.
“Fuck!”
The scream from inside the chamber made Alex chuckle again. Getting past the second thoughts was always the loudest part of the
training.
“No food or water until she learns how to say ‘please’.”
“Fuck you!”
Alex shut the panel with finality. He’d enjoy watching this one fall. Always far more fun to break the ones with spirit than the
crybabies who were scared of their own shadows.
His father always kept three slaves in various states of training, feeling that to have too many spread the attention too thin. Alex had
been running the business for a year and thought they could handle as many as five, but kept to his father’s model for now. So far, it had
worked well. But times were changing and the demand had grown. He had some new ideas of his own he wanted to try and in fact, had already
put some into practice with Annabel’s assistance. But there was one more cell, and one more slave-to-be to see.
“Show me the last one.”
With a smile that would have chilled a lesser man, but which said to Alex that Annabel liked the way this next one was coming, the woman
walked to the end of the corridor, pausing beside the third cell. Again Alex slid open a panel to peer inside.
The slender woman inside turned at the slight sound, dropping to her knees and facing the door. He’d caught her in the act of doing a
series of stretches slaves were expected to do to keep themselves limber. But now she knelt on her heels, her knees spread wide, her hands
behind her head and her breasts pushed forward in offering, her eyes down in submission. There hadn’t been a moment’s hesitation in her
move.
“This one will fetch a good price,” Annabel told him, and Alex saw a blush of pride come up in the woman’s cheeks.
“Excellent. You have done a marvelous job, Annabel.”
The older woman pursed her lips and only Alex understood the look for a smile.
“Thank you, sir.” She indicated the woman inside. “You have been away and have not had the opportunity to sample this one’s talents.
Shall I send her to you?”
“Has she been tested?”
“Yes.”
“I take it she passed?”
“She begged at the door for entrance.”
He smiled. “Then send her to the office. I want her services worked into tomorrow’s schedule.”
Annabel nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Alex shut the panel and followed the older woman along the corridor, parting with her at the elevator to the office building above them.
“We are glad to have you back, sir.”
He paused in the elevator. “Thank you, Annabel. I am very glad to be back.”

Chapter One

Susan felt great, swinging her hips provocatively as she sauntered down the busy city street. The stresses of her job had once again
disappeared after a session with Dr. Cooper, hypnotist extraordinaire. Pulling out the band that held her ponytail, she let her blonde
tresses fall, the late summer breeze picking them up and sending them curling around her face in gentle caresses. She tossed her head,
enjoying the freedom…having no idea how many heads turned to watch the incredibly sexy woman walking down the street.
The Davidson Advertising Agency had offices in one of the city’s tallest buildings. Susan nearly skipped inside, waving hello to the
guard at the desk who grinned at her lively spirit and waved her through. Even though the lunch hour drew to a close, not many were on the
elevator up to her floor and she found herself humming a jaunty little tune that nearly always filled her head these days.
The doors opened and even the sight of Miss Annabel, the agency’s dour receptionist, couldn’t dampen her spirits. Susan Bristol felt too
darn good to let a little thing like a scowl bring her down. She called a cheery hello and headed toward her own little office tucked beside
the ladies’ washroom. At twenty-five and just out of grad school for graphic design, Susan didn’t care about the size of the office. She had
an office, and that was all that mattered. Far too many of her fellow designers were working in cubicles as agency drones. When she’d landed
the job at Davidson’s, she couldn’t believe her luck. And when Mr. Davidson himself had shown her the nine-by-six room that would be hers,
she started counting her blessings and determining a color scheme.
Because the room was so tiny and had no windows, she’d chosen light colors that would keep her spirits up and the creativity flowing.
The soft pastels of spring flowed around the room like an Easter rainbow. Light yellows gave way to barely-there peaches to baby-girl pinks
that then mingled with ever-so-slightly darker shades of lilac and sky-blue. The painted pattern swirled in wide, sensuous curves and
circles, drawing the eye ever upward.
For on the ceiling was her piece de resistance. She’d hand-painted a spring sky, tufts of white clouds seeming to scuttle across a
perfect sky. Tiny birds flew in one corner on their way to a destination only imagined. Here in this small room, she’d created a world of
her own where her thoughts could roam free, untainted by reality. Here she had designed an entire account’s worth of materials for an author
just getting started. Here she’d had her greatest success fixing a botched job by one of the agency’s other designers, a designer no longer
working for them.
Mr. Davidson often stopped by personally, saying he enjoyed her creative enclave, but Susan hoped there were other reasons as well. Her
boss wasn’t married and rumors had it he would be a perennial bachelor because of his devotion to the agency. No woman would put up with the
hours he spent here on the job. But that didn’t stop Susan from the occasional daydream. After all, he was only five years her senior. His
dark hair, worn fairly short, tended to curl when it needed a haircut and Susan liked it when he forgot to go to the barbershop. Gave a girl
something to play with. His brown eyes seemed to hold secrets she would love to penetrate. She was sure part of his workaholic attitude had
to do with the fact he had inherited the agency after his father’s death. She figured he didn’t spend all his time at work, though. His
tailored suits showed off a physique whose trimness could only come from a gym. Mr. Davidson had something to prove and like so many others,
she hoped she’d be the one to find out what and to whom.
Looping her over-the-shoulder purse on the hook behind the door, Susan kicked the doorstop in place in case he happened by, took out her
current project and got back to work.

Alex Davidson hung up the receiver and smiled. Everything progressed very nicely. Dr. Cooper’s report about his latest session with
Davidson’s newest designer showed Susan Bristol had great possibilities. So far, the doctor reported, she’d shown an amazing talent to go
into trance and had a great retention for his post-hypnotic suggestions.
Slapping the desk and standing, a grin on his face, he decided to test the latest suggestion personally. Up until now, the suggestions
had been harmless…mostly just upbeat thoughts designed to reinforce her love of her job. But Alex Davidson had a very different sort of job
in mind for the woman than the position she currently held. If all went well, Susan Bristol would join a long list of women the Davidson
Advertising Agency had supplied for the Davidson Auction House.
He sauntered out of his office, fully aware of the female heads that turned his way as he made his way down the open hallway. Only Miss
Annabel didn’t show any interest in him as a sexual being and that was fine with him. The older woman had been helping to run both
businesses since long before he was born. She’d help raise him after his mother died and had accompanied them to the auction house when his
father had first taken him at the age of fourteen. In fact, it was her presence that showed him how right and sensible this business was,
for nothing would ever corrupt Miss Annabel in his young mind.
He winked at her now as he passed and she nodded toward the open door of Susan Bristol’s tiny room. Annabel had scouted Susan from a
plethora of applicants and she’d never been wrong, though Susan had thrown them both a curveball with her incredible talents as a designer.
And what she’d done with the small office space they’d allotted her had been nothing short of incredible.
He poked his head in to see her frowning over a drawing. Making a face, she made a few more lines, then sat back and sighed.
“Having trouble?” He stepped into the room, his tall frame filling taking up much of the space.
Her cheeks grew warm. “I just can’t find the right line for this sketch. It’s for the Midlakes account.”
“The horse stables? Let me look.”
Before she could hand it to him, he came around the side of her desk, putting one hand on the back of her chair, turning the drawing
with the other so he could see it better. He knew his proximity would make her blush again and enjoyed it when she did.
The sketch showed promise. He’d given her this account as a test and as an introduction to some ideas he intended to have Dr. Cooper put
in her head. The drawing showed a sulky being pulled by a magnificent racing horse. Elegance and breeding showed in the horse from the tilt
of an ear to the position of the tail. Each leg was perfectly balanced and one could almost see the movement of the animal.
Even the sulky’s positioning was correct and elegant. This was an instrument to race with, not for simple transportation. The sleek
lines flowed from the sulky to the horse in an unbroken line of sight.
Only the human sitting on the vehicle looked out of place. She’d gone for a woman driver, her hair flowing in graceful waves as they
raced around a track. But the angle of the body was wrong, the hair not quite right. Alex stifled a smile as he picked up an eraser to
remove the hair and breasts.
Quickly he penciled in a different figure, male, with powerful shoulders and strong legs. The rider sat at ease in the narrow seat, at
once one with the horse as well as its master. Susan’s surprised gasp as he withdrew his hand and turned the drawing to her let him know he
had hit home.
“That’s it! That’s it exactly! How did you know?” She looked up at him in wonderment, her hazel eyes wide with astonishment.
“Women are the watchers, men are those who control.” He kept his comments brief, watching to see how she would react. Deliberately, he
did not move away from her desk, but continued to hover over her.
“Yes, those are the stereotypes. I had been trying to break that, but I see now…our target audience is women. They will respond to a man
in the seat much more than they would to a woman there, even though the intent is to get them to patronize the stables and take lessons
there.”
“Exactly. Women will go there to watch the men, to flirt with them, excited by how men control the animals.”
Susan nodded, suddenly blushing as she realized he hadn’t moved away. Casually, as if he were just noticing it, Alex tried the
post-hypnotic suggestion. “Is it warm in here?”
As he expected, her hand went to the top button on her blouse and undid it. She didn’t seem to notice her movement as she turned her
face up to his. “I thought it was only me.”
Her cheeks continued to blush. “No, I think it’s definitely warm in here.”
Again her hand went to her blouse, unbuttoning the next button and giving him a very nice view of her cleavage. Dr. Cooper hadn’t lied.
She was quite susceptible to those suggestions. He pushed to see how far it went.
“Don’t you think it’s warm in here?”
Her fingers undid another button, leaving only the bottom two still fastened. “Yes,” she told him. “It’s definitely warm.”
“Well, because it’s so warm in here, maybe we should get you a fan.”
Another button released. He moved around to the front of her desk and went to the door. “You should show off those breasts more often
you know. Breasts as beautiful as those should be displayed for all men to see.” With that, he turned on his heel and left her, a grin on
his face.

Reviews

A SURPRISINGLY GOOD READ....well written, realistic characters and pretty strong training methods combine in an intelligent, notably better-than-average take on the tried and true hypnosis/slave training theme. 4 out of 5 (Eljay)

Written for a female audience, I think. Not my cup of tea. 2 out of 5

Author Information

In another life, Mystic Shade writes erotic romances with happy endings. With Mystic, however, you'll find no such pleasantries. Here it's time to give into the shadier sides of our desires...